


spoiler alert

by WhimsicalMercy



Series: MCYT December except it's not festive [10]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Found Family, Gen, Hurt Toby Smith | Tubbo, Implied/Referenced Suicide, it's just sad, mentions of guns, there's not much else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28058283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalMercy/pseuds/WhimsicalMercy
Summary: He thought he would be able to, he thought he would be strong enough to stay by himself.(Spoiler alert: He wasn’t.)The world had gone to hell and Jordan was alone. Until he wasn't.
Relationships: Jordan Maron & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: MCYT December except it's not festive [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036191
Comments: 111
Kudos: 367
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	spoiler alert

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SO SORRY I'M SO BEHIND. This big boy is what got me so behind, it's day 11's "Zombie AU" and BOY HOWDY IS IT SAD. I'm also pretty sure it's the longest work in the challenge so far and it's the reason I haven't been able to respond to comments on my other fics. I'm getting to those tonight as well! Tubbo doesn't deserve anything that I did to him here. He's so good.
> 
> TW: Depictions and references to death, mentions of gun usage and the appearance of a firearm (Not used), references to murder and to the murder of a child, major character death that happens off-screen including children.  
> TW(edit): There also mentions of blood written in this fic!
> 
> All characters used in this are based purely on their fictional personas. If any of the creators decide they are not comfortable with fanworks, this work will be taken down immediately to respect their wishes. I also ask that this work is not linked anywhere or intentionally shared with any of the creators mentioned.

Ever since the world went to hell, Jordan had been on his own. He wasn’t actively sabotaging or harming other people, but he didn’t stick in groups. The longest he did was a few days and that was just for travel. He never had to split his supplies or worry about another person’s life. It got lonely, it really did, but he knew it was for the best. He didn’t want to have to worry about dying on someone or needing them to kill him if he gets bitten. He didn’t want to get attached and have to kill someone he grew to love and trust, just because they made a dumb mistake somewhere or got trapped. 

That didn’t mean he didn’t like people. He just didn’t want to be the one to cause someone else pain. Actually, Jordan thought of himself as very weak when it came to people. He liked to talk and liked to be around them and always found it hard when he branched off. Days that he spent alone were sometimes painful. There was no chatting or singing, not if he wanted to keep himself safe. It was depressing and he wondered if he would live out his days like this. 

Alone.

He thought he would be able to, he thought he would be strong enough to stay by himself.

(Spoiler alert: He wasn’t.)

It started when he constantly felt as if he were being watched. Then there were the snapping twigs and crunching leaves that followed him in the woods. He thought it was animals, but was so close. He doubted any animal would get that close to him, not with how popular hunting was again. It had taken him a total of three days to actually catch sight of what was following him; a child. A child had been following him for days on end. They couldn’t have been older than 10 and they jumped when they made eye contact with him, stumbling back from their hiding spot.

He froze for a moment, trying to think where this kid could have come from. He hadn’t been around any caravans in weeks. He settled down from where he had basically jumped at the kid, taking a few steps back and sitting back down at his spot by the fire. “Hey, I won’t hurt you. You can come out.” His voice was hoarse from disuse. He hadn’t spoken since he saw that last caravan, he had no need to. Keeping quiet was keeping alive. 

The child took a few steps out, hesitating. He smiled in encouragement, scooting away from the fire so that the kid could take his place. He made sure every movement was slow and that it was obvious what he was doing. The kid watched him with wide eyes, watching as he pulled out a water bottle and a can of green beans. He set the bottle in between them, making sure the kid understood that the intent was for them to drink it, before popping the can open and putting it on the grate over the fire. The kid slowly picked up the bottle and drank a good bit, some water spilling down their chin and on to their dirty jacket. 

He watched them out of the corner of his eye, checking what the kid had. They seemed to be smart if the boots, jacket, gloves and backpack were any indication. The backpack seemed virtually empty, however, so he doubted the kid had any food or water on him. Once the beans were cooked, he passed the can over with a warning that the metal was hot. The kid scarfed down the food quicker than Jordan had ever seen before; not even animals ate how fast this kid did and Jordan briefly wondered how many of this kid’s ribs were showing underneath the jacket.

Eventually, they seemed to relax and clambered over to press against Jordan’s side. Their eyes were drooping closed, content that Jordan wouldn’t hurt them. He watched until they fell asleep, covering them with the thick blanket he carried around for himself. As soon as he was sure that they were asleep, he gently shifted them to take a peek into their backpack. They don’t wake, only sniffle a little as the straps are pulled from their shoulders. There’s nothing in the bag, but there is a tag, one written with neat writing.

_This bag belongs to:  
**Tubbo (Toby Smith)**  
If lost, please return to:  
4129 Bridge Avenue, New Gawer_

New Gawer? That was miles from here, probably a few months while walking. How did a kid so young get all the way out here, _alone?_ He stared down at the kid, who he assumed was Tubbo. He’d have to ask in the morning before they set off to find a caravan. Finding the kid’s actual parents would probably be impossible, but perhaps some relatives were in the town. There had to be a caravan headed that way, most tended to just wander with no destination, much like how Jordan was doing currently.

As the night went on, he found himself too restless to sleep. Not with a kid sleeping on him, depending on him to keep them safe as they got to sleep. His heart squeezed at the realization that for whatever reason, the kid chose him to follow. The kid chose to come closer, to lean up against his arm. The sun broke the horizon and he came to the sinking conclusion that he was feeling the compulsion to get this kid back to his hometown. It felt that he was the one chosen for such a quest, like some sort of RPG protagonist from a game he would obsess over before the world went to hell.

The idea came with a sense of dread. He didn’t know how old this kid was but even still, he would have to take care of them. He would be providing not only for himself but a growing boy, one that had been starving for who knows how long at this point. He would have to make sure they both had water and clothes and medicine. He imagined it would be even harder to find clothes if he took the kid with him. He didn’t replace his own clothing often, opting to carry a sewing kit and scraps of fabric in his own bag, but this was a kid. One that still grew and would get growth spurts. 

He almost made a decision until Tubbo rolled over in his sleep, reaching out with a bony hand to wrap his fingers around Jordan’s wrist, fingers tight on the fabric of his long sleeve. The tension in Tubbo’s face disappeared as soon as he grasped onto the adult and Jordan felt his heart melt. He really was weak, wasn’t he? By the time Tubbo woke up from his sleep, he was already looking at maps and his compass and plotting out the best route to get the kid back to New Gawer.

He smiled softly as Tubbo sat up and stretched, rubbing sleepily over his eyes. He looked over at Jordan and blinked. “Hey bud. Is your name Tubbo?” The kid nodded in response to his question, not saying a word. It was disheartening, but he didn’t give up. He pushed on, asking for his age. The kid held up ten fingers, pausing, then nodding. 10, then. The next question Jordan asked was what happened to his parents. Tubbo blinked a few times before looking down and shrugging. It wasn’t a clear answer but it was possible that Tubbo didn’t actually know what happened to his parents.

Jordan paused for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Do you want to try and go back home? New Gawer is your home, right?” Tubbo nodded eagerly at that, not quite smiling but getting close. “Are your parents there?” he asked, wondering if he was going to get an angry parent breathing down his neck for essentially kidnapping their kid, even if he was the one to get them home. But, no, Tubbo shook his head. He fumbled with his jacket, pulling the zipper down and reaching under his shirt as soon as he had been freed.

He pulled a chain out from under his shirt, one with a small compass attached to it. Tubbo pulled the chain over his head and flipped the compass over, revealing two carved out words on the back. _‘Your Tommy’_ It said. Jordan wasn’t allowed to touch the necklace and the compass was secured over Tubbo’s neck as soon as possible, tucked under his shirt and jacket. “You want to get back to… Tommy?” he asked and that got Tubbo to nod, even more excited than before.

“Is that your friend?” A rapid nod. “Your best friend?” More nodding and Jordan wondered if he was going to get a headache with how much movement his head was doing. He swallowed tightly, not wanting to break the kid’s heart. He didn’t know if this Tommy was still alive or if he was even in the town. Truth be told, if Tommy’s parents were smart, they would have left the area. New Gawer wasn’t exactly big, but it was still a fairly large town. 

Even still, he wouldn’t be the one to crush Tubbo’s dreams. Instead, he nodded and stood. He stomped out the remaining embers of the fire and folded the blanket into his own pack. Once he was sure that they had everything, he checked his map and compass again. He reached out a hand and grasped Tubbo’s smaller hand into his, mostly so the kid didn’t get lost. They were headed Northeast, though he knew he would have to guide them off of the path he had mapped out in his mind. He wanted to avoid cities as much as possible.

He knew it would be smart supply wise, but he refused to traumatize Tubbo more than necessary. Cities meant the undead and the undead meant he would have to use one of his knives or some of his ammo to take them down. Tubbo was 10, he didn’t need to see the person he was traveling with killing what had been human beings right in front of his eyes. Jordan had no issue with killing, he didn’t shy away from it as much as he used to, but this was a kid. He couldn’t just charge into a populated area without risking both of their lives.

So they walked and walked, sleeping in abandoned buildings or in the wilderness each night. Tubbo definitely slowed him down, but the kid was a trooper. He also never spoke a word, but he hung on to each word Jordan said. It wasn’t exactly a conversation, but it was nice to talk to someone. He also did learn things about Tubbo; that he liked bees and that he had a very good memory. He liked greens, yellows, and browns more than most other colors and had shared that Tommy’s favorite color was red when Jordan mentioned he liked the color. 

Tubbo seemed to think about his best friend a lot and the compass was his most prized possession. The only time it was removed was when Tubbo bathed and, even then, Jordan was not allowed to touch it and it was kept in sight at all times. From the times he had seen the needle move, Jordan realized that the compass didn’t actually work, but it was still very special to the boy. He didn’t question it, didn’t touch it, and made sure that Tubbo always had it. 

About a third of the way into their journey, he found a stationery store. Most of it had been looted, but there were still some pencils and notebooks. He took a few and put them in Tubbo’s bag. From that point on, Jordan realized that Tubbo was actually very talkative. They were constantly passing the book back and forth. It was also how he started suspecting that Tubbo was dyslexic. It wasn’t a problem, but he did put effort into helping the kid with it, gently correcting when needed and guiding him without being overbearing. Tubbo was also incredibly independent, though Jordan was sure that was a side effect of being on his own for a while.

They exchanged stories and talked about their lives before as they traveled. Jordan was well aware of how attached he was to Tubbo, probably more than he should be. If given the choice, Tubbo would most likely stay with Tommy’s family. He hoped that the family of four was safe. He had learned a lot about them as he and Tubbo talked in their way. Tubbo wrote about how Tommy had been adopted by who he called ‘Mr. Phil’. He wrote about Tommy’s two older brothers, Techno and Wilbur, and how cool they were. Techno fought with swords (Jordan assumed he meant that Techno was a fencer) and that he had very long hair. Wilbur was apparently a musician and played a few instruments. The entire family had all liked video games and that had gotten Jordan to chime in with his own love of games.

It was clear that these four meant a lot to Tubbo, if he talked about them more than he talked about his parents. Jordan’s assumption had been correct and Tubbo had said that his parents went out one day and didn’t return to the townhouse the family had rented for their vacation. Tubbo had stayed for a bit before he realized he was in danger. Tubbo was so smart, Jordan would admit. Figuring out that he was in danger and couldn’t stay even for his parents was impressive. That or Jordan just didn’t know about kids, which was true. He knew nothing about 10-year-olds. 

It took them four months and 6 days to get to New Gawer. Had he just been by himself, Jordan could have made that walk much quicker, but Tubbo was so young. He couldn’t walk as fast or for as long and most days he ended up on Jordan’s back for the last few hours of daylight. There were also the few days that Tubbo had caught a cold, so they hunkered down in an abandoned house until he was better. Those few days had been terrifying and every minute, he had been waiting for Tubbo’s eyes to glaze over and for him to start coughing up blood. It wouldn’t be the first transformation that Jordan would see, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to kill Tubbo, even as the undead.

Thankfully, it had just been a cold and the boy easily recovered from his fever and chills. They moved on, getting closer and closer until they were passing a broken down sign that read _‘Welcome to New Gawer’_. Tubbo had squeezed his hand in excitement and, for a moment, Jordan was worried the kid was just going to take off. Thank god that Tubbo was a patient boy and that he followed Jordan to his house. As Jordan began walking up to the steps, he felt a sharp tug on his hand. He looked down and Tubbo shook his head. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” He asked. Tubbo tugged on his hand again and pointed down the street. He then patted his chest and it clicked. The compass. Tubbo didn’t want to come home to his house, he wanted to see Tommy. Jordan swallowed tightly and nodded faintly. “Okay, yeah. Do you know how to get to Tommy’s house?” Each word he said was quiet. Genuine fear filled him at the idea of the endings he easily envisioned; one was that Tommy and his family were still here and took Tubbo from him, the second was that Tommy’s family was gone and the third... The third was that he would have to kill the undead version of the kid’s best friend right in front of him.

They walked over the cracked pavement, Tubbo getting more impatient as they approached a light blue house. It was just as run down as the others, but Jordan noticed that all the doors and windows were boarded up. Someone was living there or had been for at least a bit after the outbreak. He assumed it was Tommy’s family, but it could be a different group of survivors. He circled them to the side, noticing that the door on the side of the house wasn’t boarded up. That would have to be his way in. He glanced down at Tubbo, pushing the kid behind him and letting go of his hand. Tubbo grabbed the back of his jacket instantly as he pulled out his pistol from where it had been holstered. He took the safety off and pushed into the house.

The room on the other side of the door was a small mudroom with a laundry setup. There was a door that led further into the house, but the mudroom was safe at least. After all, the undead couldn’t open doors. He locked the door to the outside behind them and turned to Tubbo. “Hey. I know you’re excited, but I need you to let me check out the house first. I want to make sure it’s safe. The outside door is locked, they can’t break it down or break windows. You have the whistle. It’s just like when we go into stores, yeah?” He smiled shakily and earned a sad nod from Tubbo, the kid pouting. Once he was reassured that Tubbo wouldn’t go anywhere, he cracked the inside door open and slid himself through the crack. 

The fear he had from before got worse with the smell of the house. He looked around the hallway, pausing at the pictures. Mostly of the family, some even with Tubbo in them. They’re smiling most photos, though some had the person caught unaware. He figures out pretty quickly who is who from the photos; Techno had the long hair that Tubbo said he did, though it was dyed a bright pink. Phil was, obviously, the father and the eldest, his blonde hair in varying lengths. Wilbur was taller than he had expected, towering over his brothers and father with a cheeky grin. His brown hair was also curly and usually hidden beneath a hat. Tommy was actually exactly like Jordan had imagined. He always had a bright grin on his face and his blonde hair was as fluffy as Tubbo said it was. 

His heart sank as he slowly made his way down the hallway into the next room. When he made his way into the kitchen, he was comforted by the fact that there were no bodies and there was no sign of struggle. He stepped past the chairs and tables, careful not to bump anything and make noise. The living room was a similar story and it was so painfully normal. There was a violin case in the corner of the room and a box of legos next to the coffee table. Books lay on the side tables, bookmarks poking out. A photo album sat open. The house had recently been used, which made the pit in his stomach grow. He climbed the stairs and hit the landing, scanning the doors. All but the two closest to him had names on them. He took in a steady breath before pushing open the first door. He almost cries when it’s a bathroom, but he just turns and opens the other unlabeled door.

The room confirms his worst fears, but in a way he never imagined. 

There were four figures crammed on to the large king-sized bed and Jordan clapped a hand over his mouth and nose at the smell. Phil and Wilbur were caging the younger two in, all of them curled around each other. He would have believed they were all just sleeping if it weren’t for the fact that they all were not breathing and the fact that there was blood leaking from their noses. He took a few more steps in, stepping over the guitar on the floor. There was an open book on the nightstand, one with messy handwriting. He picked it up before taking a step back.

As he passed again, something bright caught his eye and he glanced over again, following the gleam of metal to Tommy’s chest. All air left him and he gasped in for air that wasn’t there. On Tommy’s chest, clutched in his hand, was a compass that matched Tubbo’s. It came with the realization that Tubbo was downstairs and that he would have to be the one to tell him he wouldn’t be able to see his best friend. He wouldn’t be able to hug Tommy or play with him as Tubbo wanted. A wave of grief washed over him, for Tubbo, for this family.

He stumbled out the door, journal clutched in his hand. He checked the other rooms and founded them completely frozen in time. Tommy’s sheets sat crumpled on his bed, Wilbur’s floor had pages of lyrics scattered over it, Techno’s desk still had a textbook propped open. All windows had been boarded up, nothing had been broken into. He checked the rest of the rooms downstairs before pausing outside of the mudroom. He looked down at the worn-out leather binding. He swallowed and flicked it open, wanting to fully know what happened before he talked to Tubbo.

The truth was as painful as he expected, made even worse by the fact that this had been written by Phil. The last pages were filled with nothing but grief and anger, the very last page wet with tears and smudged ink. He closed the book and blinked a few times, watching the door for anything. Something wet dripped onto his collar and he came to the sudden realization that he was crying. He wondered what caused it; was it reading Phil’s desperation, the want to save his kids and his last wishes, or was it the knowledge that he would have to tell Tubbo that Tommy, who had been his hope and dreams, was dead? Perhaps it was the knowledge that this would completely crush Tubbo or the fact that the family had died so young.

He reached up to wipe his tears, taking a long breath to collect himself. He could not cry in front of Tubbo. He needed to be strong and to be able to be the rock Tubbo needed. Pushing open the door caused him physical pain and he locked the mudroom door behind him. As soon as they were both safe in the small room, he threw the safety back on his pistol and holstered it again. He avoided Tubbo’s gaze as he did so, keeping his eyes on where his hands were shaking. Finally, Tubbo reached up and grabbed his hands and he was forced to look at the kid.

Tubbo’s eyes were wide and his bottom lip was wobbling slightly. _He already knew._ He had already guessed but Jordan still swallowed. “I’m… I’m so sorry, duckling.” He whispered and the dam broke. He kneeled down to catch Tubbo as he crumpled up, sobs shaking the boy’s shoulders even as he stayed silent. He curled around Tubbo’s body, hands cupping the back of his head as he whispered out apologies. There was nothing he could do to make this better, nothing he could do to make Tubbo stop hurting, and it hurt. All he could do was let the kid cling to him and wrap him up in his embrace.

He didn’t lie, he didn’t say that it was okay because it was not okay. Tubbo was 10, nearly 11 at this point. He shouldn’t be grieving his best friend or having to move every other day. He should be going to school and riding his bike. Jordan felt a sudden heat fill him and he recognized it as pure, unadulterated rage. He was so angry, at the world, at the disease, at their circumstances. There was nothing he could do to make this stop hurting for Tubbo and he was really pissed off due to that. Fuck this world and what it had come to.

They sat there for a while, Jordan’s back pressed up against the inside door and Tubbo curled in his lap. At some point, he had begun to hum gently, just old songs and random tunes he had in his mind. He felt Tubbo shift around. The boy pulled off his backpack and pulled out a notebook and pencil. There was the sound of writing before the paper was being pressed into his hands.

_Can we bury them?_

A choked gasp left Jordan’s throat and a different scrawl flashed across a mind’s eye. A father’s last wishes. He nods. “Yeah, bud, yeah we can. All of them together, just like Mr. Phil wanted.” He murmurs. Tubbo nods, the top of his head brushing Jordan’s chin. Despite them making a decision, they don’t move for another few minutes. He finally has to pull them off of the floor, picking Tubbo up and moving them out of the house. He promises that they’ll return tomorrow so they don’t have to rush through the motions.

They return to Tubbo’s house and they sleep in Tubbo’s room, together. Tubbo wakes up multiple times, sobbing and clinging to him and Jordan doesn’t sleep at all. His head hurts, his heart hurts, he’s so exhausted. He thinks back to Phil’s journal, now stashed in his bag. The man felt so desperate the last few days, telling the journal that he had never seen Tommy so quiet or Techno so affectionate. The last few days, Phil lived with the knowledge that his sons were going to die, that he was going to die. It was either they died or they all became monsters that hunted other people down.

Jordan tucked his chin against Tubbo’s head, listening to his shuddering breaths in the dark. When the sun rose, he had settled himself enough to give Tubbo a delicate smile and get them both up and fed. Jordan wasn’t stupid, he made this day special. They both bathed and brushed their teeth. He changed Tubbo into some nicer clothes, though nothing that could restrict movement. As much as he knew this meant to Tubbo, he wouldn’t risk the kid’s life for it. If it became dangerous, he would be taking Tubbo and bolting.

The walk back to the house was quiet and he pushed them both into the backyard. He dug out a shovel and told Tubbo to go gather flowers and such. They worked in silence for hours, Jordan feeling guilty that the family wouldn’t be getting a proper funeral. He couldn’t build them coffins or even a headstone. This was Tubbo’s best friend and family and yet he couldn’t even give them the respect they deserved. He had to pause once or twice to settle himself down and to not break down into tears.

He finished digging it a little past midday, Tubbo sitting on the side with bunches of flowers for each member of the family. He had spent so long gathering each flower and some other plants, picking through the garden that the family had. Eventually, he climbed out of the hole next to tubbo and looked down at the kid. Tubbo was crying again and he pulled the kid into his arms. “I’m sorry, bud, I’m so sorry.” Tubbo sniffled weakly. It seemed that would be the only response. “Hey, let me go get them ready. Do you… do you wanna pick out something for Tommy and them to wear? Some new clothes? So they’re not in their pjs?” 

Jordan never said he was a good parent, this was probably a bad idea, but the look on Tubbo’s face made him think it wasn’t so bad. He told him to go pick out clothes for Tommy and Tubbo wrote out that he would do Techno and Wilbur as well since Jordan already banned him from Phil’s room. He gave Jordan a small piece of paper, the clothes that Tubbo knew Phil liked. He swallowed tightly, reminded Tubbo of the whistle, and took off into the bathroom. He wet a few towels and grabbed some toilet paper and paper towels. It took a few minutes but he managed to scrub most of the dried liquid off of each of the family member’s faces. It felt wrong, but he carefully stuffed pieces of paper towels and toilet paper in their noses and mouths, to keep more from leaking out. 

He was gentle when moving each other, changing Phil into the sweater and jacket that Tubbo requested. There was a quiet knock on the door and he opened it to reveal Tubbo holding a pile of clothes. He quickly figured out which was which; the smaller red and white shirt and jeans were, obviously, for Tommy, a cozy yellow sweater and similar jeans for Wilbur, and a cream-colored button-up, brown pants, and worn out belt for Techno. He was careful with all of them, lips pressed tightly together. It took longer than he originally planned, mostly due to the fact that he could hear Tubbo sitting right outside and had to take time to not burst into ugly sobs again. He was gentle when looping the belt through the loops of Techno's pants and when making sure that Tommy's compass ( _It matched Tubbo's, reading 'Your Tubbo' and Jordan had to take a sharp breath not to cry_ ) was pressed neatly against his unmoving chest. When he was finished, he took a step back and looked at his progress one last time. Everything seemed to be in order, all he had to do was bring the bodies downstairs and outside. To the little pitiful grave he had dug these poor people because he couldn’t do more. 

He popped open the door, earning a nose scrunch from Tubbo. He smiled sadly. “Yeah, I know, smells bad. Why don’t you go downstairs and make sure all the doors are open so I can get them outside?” He requested gently and Tubbo swallowed tightly. His eyes flicked slightly past Jordan, but the adult knew he couldn’t see on to the bed quite yet. He really didn’t want Tubbo looking at his best friend’s corpse at _all_ , but he couldn’t avoid the inevitable. Tubbo wanted to bury the Watsons and Jordan was hoping this would give him some sort of closure. There was only so much Jordan could do in this situation, he felt like a fish out of water. He supposed he was a fish out of water with this whole parenting thing. Especially now since he was all Tubbo had left.

He did a once over when Tubbo came back, checking that the doors were opened and nothing was in his way. He started with Phil, the older male taller than him but light. _‘Probably the starvation’_ his mind reminded him of the pages punctuated by tear marks, Phil giving up meal after meal to ensure the kids ate. It had been painful to read, Phil’s writing striking cords with the memories of himself going without food so that Tubbo had something to eat that night. Even then, it wasn’t enough, Tubbo was so small. Phil’s head lolled against his shoulder as he carried the man bridal style down the stairs and into the garden. Tubbo sniffled weakly as he gently put Phil down in the grass, the children clutching something in his hands. He opened his mouth to stop Tubbo, not wanting him to touch a dead body even if it was the dead body of his best friend’s father. Thankfully, Tubbo was quick to pull away and a small flower crown had been situated into Phil’s hair.

Jordan helped him place the flowers in Phil’s hands before telling him he would be getting Wilbur next. It went the same way, though it took longer since Wilbur was so tall, with Tubbo gently putting another crown into Wilbur’s messy hair. When he brought Techno out, the kid made a face and reached out to gently run his fingers through Techno’s hair, the pink color Tubbo always talked about long since faded back to brown. He looked sad about _something_ that Jordan couldn’t put his finger on. He asked what was wrong but got a shake of the head, Tubbo carefully tucking the crown around the long locks of hair. Jordan took a deep breath and kneeled down to Tubbo, leveling with him a look. “I’m getting Tommy now, okay?” He whispered. Tubbo’s lip trembled and he sighed, bringing him close.

“You don’t have to do this, ducky, you don’t have to. It’s okay. You can go wait in one of the rooms or something.” He offered, feeling the tears drip onto his collarbone. He gently shushed the child, offering comfort in the only way he knew how. He knew the stench of death had sunken into him with how much he was handling the dead bodies, but Tubbo didn’t seem to care. The boy just shook his head and pulled away, wiping his tears furiously. He had a determined look on his face, one that had Jordan feeling a mix of concern and pride. He didn’t want Tubbo just powering through this because he held like he had to. Even still, they sat together for a moment and Jordan pressed a kiss to the top of Tubbo’s head.

He was even more gentle with Tommy and he had to pause to swallow back tears before exiting the house. Tubbo crumpled instantly, bursting into tears and curling in on himself. Jordan’s heart shattered at the nearly silent noises, Tubbo’s little voice hoarse from disuse. He gently set Tommy next to his dad and brothers and pulled Tubbo back to his chest again. Tubbo clung to his shoulders, crying harder than Jordan had seen him before. It made guilt pool in his stomach and he began to regret his actions. “Tub, you don’t have to do this if it hurts too much. Do not force yourself.” He tried to talk the boy out of staying, concerned that this was doing more harm than good. 

But Tubbo shook his head, sniffling weakly, pulling away to write something down.

_Wanna stay._

_For Tommy._

Oh Jordan’s broken heart just broke more. He bit his lip and nodded, running his hand through Tubbo’s hair. They separated finally and he began to gently lay the bodies in the grave. Phil first, then Wilbur on the other side, Techno next to Phil on the inside and- He turned to lower Tommy down, pausing when he noticed that Tubbo was sitting next to his best friend, small fingers running through his hair. Tubbo looked up at the lack of sound, freezing when he noticed that Tommy was next. The tears began to fall again and the boy lifted his friend up in one last hug, crying into his shoulder. Tubbo kissed his best friend’s head before letting Jordan take him. Jordan was extremely gentle when lowering Tommy into the spot between Wilbur and Techno. Just like they had been cuddled up on the bed. He climbed out of the hole, pulling Tubbo to his side by his shoulders. Tubbo sniffled weakly, coughing a little. There was some wheezing and Jordan looked down, kneeling down next to the kid. He froze when he heard it:

_“Bye Toms, bye Wilby, bye Tech, bye Mr. Phil."_

That was the first time he ever heard Tubbo speak. He wasn’t sure if it would be the last.

(Spoiler alert: It wasn’t. It took over a year and a half but the next thing Tubbo said to him was “Thank you, Dad.”)

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope how long this turned out makes it worth the wait. I'm going to be posting two more fics tonight but I wanted to spread out the times posted so I didn't spam the character tags.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, please don't be shy!


End file.
